By Any Means Necessary
by Sylvie Orp
Summary: A computer boffin, working on the experimental Coolings Project, has gone missing. CI5 are ordered to get her back - by any means necessary
1. Chapter 1

Doyle is working contentedly on his vintage bike. He's enjoying an unexpected treat that Cowley gave him a week off at short notice. He could think of no better way of spending his time than on his beloved Harley Davidson. He hears a car pull up outside. He slides his hand under the bench and feels for the hard steel of his trusty weapon, and eases off the safety catch. He's not concerned, just cautious. He hears footsteps coming his way. He draws the concealed gun closer to his body as he carries on working. He senses a presence by the open door to his workshop. It's Bodie. The agent was about to lean on the doorframe but remembered in time how dirty it was, and he was in a good suit.

"Sorry to drag you away." He lets the sentence hang.

Unseen, Doyle slips the safety catch back on quietly and pushes the gun back into its niche under the bench.

"I'm on leave," he complains, wiping the worst of the oil from his hands, resigned already to a wrecked week's R&R.

"We're never off duty!" they chorused as Doyle locks up.

Bodie follows his friend into the flat and pours himself a scotch as he waits for his partner to get the worst of the dirt from his body.

"It's like really urgent," Bodie calls after waiting a few comfortable minutes.

His partner doesn't reply but is ready in record time. It's only as they drive away and not able to be overheard that Bodie fills him in on what little he knows.

"The old man's in a flap about something. It sounded urgent."

"It always does," Doyle moaned, secretly excited at the prospect of a new assignment.

.

"I said it was urgent," grumbled Cowley as the pair turned up in his office. The agents were wise enough to say nothing. "Well, sit you down."

Cowley then slid a photograph across the desk. It was a cropped photo of a smiling, middle-aged woman. The young agents felt that she was vaguely familiar, but they couldn't put their finger on it. They waited to see where she fitted in.

"This is Mrs McEwen," explained Cowley. "She has gone missing from her last known address in Edinburgh. She was working on the Coolings Project." Cowley looked at his agents to see if the name meant anything to them. Their blank stares indicated that it did not. "Coolings." Cowley waited. It hadn't meant anything to them first time; it certainly didn't second time. "The new decoding computer trials." The agents tried to look interested, intelligent and knowledgeable. Unfortunately they failed on all counts. Cowley sighed. He knew he was being unreasonable to expect his agents to know everything, but it would be nice if they tried.

"Mrs McEwen is a key part of the Coolings Project. If she fell into enemy hands it would be disastrous. Our assignment – your assignment – is to get her back by any means necessary. You'll find the files ready for you next door."

The agents waited a heartbeat for any grains of further information or guidance, but none were forthcoming. They judged Cowley's mood, and it did not invite questions or suggestions. The pair dutifully got up and resigned themselves to several hours sifting through paperwork.

.

Indeed, several hours later the pair got up stretching and rubbing their eyes and the back of their necks. They had been at it for longer than they realised. They adjourned to a nearby café for a quick bite to eat. They were going to exchange notes there, but the café was too full so they returned back to HQ and the mess room, where it wouldn't matter if they were overheard. Bodie started off the batting.

"She looks familiar somehow."

"Yeah, but that's not the point right now. We need to find her and fast. I can see why Cowley is in a flap about it. She's right in the centre of this Coolings business."

"Yeah, I can see why the Russkies want her real bad. We need to stop them before they get her anywhere near the border."

"You're assuming that it's the Commies who've got her, Bodie. But we can't assume anything. The ports and airports are already on alert. We need to go to Scotland and start talking to her colleagues there."

Bodie gave no comment. He was thinking along the same lines. They reported to Cowley their plan of action. Their leader, as usual, was at least one step ahead of them. He smiled benignly while sliding a thick envelope towards them. Bodie opened it, knowing already what was in it. Two rail tickets - return date open.


	2. Chapter 2

The boffins at Coolings were as anxious as Cowley to get their colleague back. They had been instructed to be frank and open with the CI5 agents if they wanted Mrs McEwen back in one piece. The pair gained more knowledge in an hour from the eager team than they had gleaned from hours of diligent reading in the filing room. They adjourned to their hotel for the evening to plan a course of action for the following days ahead.

After dinner there they went upstairs to Doyle's bedroom. Doyle dragged his suitcase onto the bed and poured the contents onto the floor. Bodie raised a resigned eyebrow but said nothing. His military tidiness railed at Doyle's disregard. Doyle tore at the false bottom of his suitcase and dug out the files that they had brought with them. They read through them all again, together with the day's notes. By midnight they knew everything there was to know about computer decoding, the Coolings Project and where Mrs McEwen ranked in its hierarchy. She seemed to be quite a computer genius. Bletchley would have been glad to have her during the war – maybe they had. But, all this knowledge didn't get them any further to her current whereabouts or who exactly was wanting to snatch her. It could be, as Bodie suggested, the Russkies or it could be a rival company. They needed more information.

"Let's sleep on it," Bodie suggested, and Doyle had no objection.

Next morning, they had some plan of action. They hired a car and Doyle went to chat with the Chief Constable. Bodie set off to visit some contacts of Mrs McEwen in and around the Edinburgh area. That afternoon they met up in the quiet lounge of the hotel over a cup of coffee to exchange news. Doyle had had a useful meeting with a witness who had seen Mrs McEwen get into a car. The witness thought that the pair were having a row, and Mrs McEwen looked as though she had been forcibly dragged into the car. The agents felt they were getting a little closer. Some of Doyle's news overlapped with Bodie's. These were the areas they were going to concentrate on next day.

Further interviews the following day narrowed down the search field. A diligent copper even found the car that Mrs McEwen had been abducted in (stolen the previous week and now abandoned) – and it was now looking like an abduction rather than a row with a friend as the witness had thought. Further checks with the car, further checks with witnesses, and by late evening, and hungry, the pair had a very strong notion of where Mrs McEwen was being held – that is, if she hadn't been moved on already. They believed that she was too precious for her kidnappers to even think of killing her, but the agents felt an urgency to find her before she was spirited away.


	3. Chapter 3

It was just after midnight and – after a quick sandwich and a change into dark clothing – the pair were ready. They had briefed the local coppers what they were up to. They didn't want to be falling over uniforms and blowing the operation. The house they had selected was somewhere in this terrace. They weren't sure of the number, but witnesses had come forward to confirm that the car had certainly been parked here or hereabouts for about a week. That chimed with what they knew. All the terraced houses were in darkness.

"We need more than just the two of us, Doyle."

"We're a long way from home, Bodie. So I guess it's just you and me."

Bodie felt quietly comforted by this thought. He had always been his own man. Since there was little or no cover, their only choice was to stroll down the street as though they had a purpose in mind. Bodie scanned the houses on their side of the road, while Doyle's eyes were peeled on the other side for any signs of life or light. By the time they got to the end of the short street, they were no further forward. All the houses appeared asleep.

"Well, she must be somewhere."

Doyle didn't respond to this sweeping statement. She could be on the moon. It was not encouraging. The night was dark and cold. The full moon had hidden its face behind the clouds. The wind was getting up and there was rain in the air.

"Let's have another sweep," Doyle suggested. "Perhaps take a peek round the back."

They found a service alleyway running behind the terraces and took a walk along there, peeping in and around the fences, peering into any gaps between the slats. Still no light in any of the windows.

"I guess we'll have to break into each of them in turn," suggested Bodie without any enthusiasm.

They didn't want to get arrested for burglary at this late stage in their operation! Doyle felt that there must be another way. They could even be barking up a completely wrong tree.

"Let's go round the front again and have a look in through the windows."

Short of any other ideas, Bodie was happy to go along with this. When they entered the third front garden they noticed a rockery piled up under the bay window. Some of the rocks were glowing. The pair glanced at each other but said nothing. The rain had begun to gently fall. Quietly and slowly the pair moved the rocks away from the wall. It revealed a grating. And below the grating, a cellar. A light was on down there, and the rocks had been built up to hide the beam. Clearly the pair were dealing with fellow professionals. Doyle felt in his back pocket and unearthed his Swiss Army knife. He put it in his jacket and fished in his back pocket again. He came up with the skeleton keys. He showed them to Bodie who nodded quietly. The pair moved in tandem to the front door. It didn't take long for Doyle to jemmy the lock. They were in – and no alarms had gone off. They carefully made their way along the hall and peered into the living room and kitchen. No-one there in the darkness. Now for the cellar. Bodie cautiously and slowly turned the handle of the door under the stairs. He drew the door towards him. There were no creaking of hinges. The pair looked at one another, holding their breath. Light flooded up the stairs towards them. They heard no-one down below but that meant nothing. They drew their weapons and slowly and cautiously made their way down the wooden stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

They knew it was going to be tight down there. They had to assume that the kidnappers were armed, and they had to assume that there was more than one of them, and they had to get Mrs McEwen out of there alive and in one piece. Cowley would not accept a corpse riddled with bullets. They saw, when they reached the bottom, that there were two rooms and a short corridor. The doors to both were open. They heard rustling in the room closest to them. It was the sound of cards being played and slapped on the table. The stench of cigars and cigarettes filled the cellar. The agents looked at one another and nodded. As a team, they crashed into the first room. The two goons were taken completely by surprise. Bodie shoved the table across the room, and the two kidnappers fell off their chairs at the sudden and unexpected violence. They saw the guns, and they saw the men holding those guns, and they certainly meant business. The two kidnappers raised their hands in immediate surrender. The agents needed to be sure that Mrs McEwen was safe. Bodie quickly left the scene to find her – Doyle had the situation under control - and headed for the next room. There was a sudden gun blast. Doyle hesitated that one split second. Did he stay where he was, with the gun trained on the goons, or did he go and help his mate?. The decision was taken out of his hands when a sniper burst into the room with his gun trained on Doyle. Doyle's instincts were immediate. He dropped to the floor and away from the line of fire. The gunman wasn't expecting this and he accidentally shot one of his comrades who was in the line of fire. The room was very small for all the combatants. Doyle tried to get the sniper off-balance. As he lunged for a leg, the unarmed kidnapper kicked Doyle viciously in the face. He recoiled and there was another shot. The gunman crumpled to the ground. Doyle had to shuffle out of the way, confused. The unarmed kidnapper was pressed up against the wall and couldn't go any further, nor could his arms reach any higher in surrender.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

Doyle took a second to work out what had happened, his head was still spinnng. Mrs McEwen stood planted firmly in the doorway, with a gun in her hand. She looked remarkably calm given the circumstances. Doyle staggered to his feet. His face felt on fire.

"I'll take that, if you don't mind, Mrs McEwen," he said, gently easing the gun from her fingers.

"It seems like riding a bike. Once you get the knack, it doesn't leave you does it?" replied Mrs McEwen. "They didn't even think to tie me up. They don't expect women to be able to look after themselves do they?"

Doyle didn't respond. His next thought was for his partner. He quickly left Mrs McEwen and the terrified kidnapper for a moment while he looked for Bodie. It didn't take a second to find him in the corridor stretched out. His hair was matted with blood. Doyle pressed his fingers anxiously against his friend's neck and was relieved to feel a strong pulse there. He gently turned him over onto his back and saw a deep furrow along the side of his head. The bullet had come close – bloody close. Doyle dragged Bodie's tie off and undid his top button. He wiped his friend's face quickly with the tie and peered under Bodie's eyelids. His friend was completely out of it and would be for some time. He returned to Mrs McEwen to assess matters there. The gunman was dead. He didn't know if it was a lucky shot from the formidable Mrs McEwen, or whether she really meant it. One kidnapper was wounded by his comrade and unconscious, the other still terrified and unlikely to cause problems. Doyle made quick work of tying them both up in any case.

"I think we need to get out of here," Doyle said. "The neighbours may have heard some of the racket, and I would prefer not to have an audience."

Mrs McEwen agreed and helped Doyle to get Bodie into a fireman's lift. Doyle staggered up the stairs with his casualty and Mrs McEwen followed behind. They emerged into a very wet night. Fortunately it wasn't far to the car and Doyle eased his friend onto the back seat. He got into the front with Mrs McEwen at his side. They drove silently towards the hospital, but not before stopping off at the police station for a quick debrief. Doyle handed over the gunman's weapon, but kept quiet about his own arsenal - his own gun and Bodie's. A senior police officer agreed to accompany them to the hospital to explain about Bodie's bullet wound. After an anxious wait, Doyle was given the good news that Bodie should be released the following day with a lot of painkillers.

"I'll take you home. It's been one hell of a night. Sorry for the language." Mrs McEwen shook her head and said that she'd heard a lot worse. "I'll stand guard tonight. I think you've been through enough already. I'll report to Mr Cowley that you've been found alive and well. I don't want you slipping through my fingers!"

"I'm quite capable of looking after myself - Mr Doyle, isn't it? And did you mention a Mr George Cowley?" There was a slight smile on her face and her eyes beamed with recognition.

"Yeah. Do you know him?"

Mrs McEwen seem to gather herself in and her eyes closed down. "Well he is quite well known isn't he?"

But as far as Doyle was aware, Cowley and his trade were only known to a few outside the agency. Mrs McEwen cut across his thoughts.

"If Mr Bodie is capable of travelling tomorrow, could you take me to wherever Mr Cowley is. I would like to thank him personally for sending his knights in shining armour to rescue me."

"He's down in London," Doyle informed her.

"That's alright. I'll pack a bag for a few days. I'll let my colleagues know that I'm safe and that I'm going on leave for a few days. I'm sure they won't mind."

Doyle agreed. The following morning they were all assembled at the train station: Bodie with a bandage around his head, Doyle badly bruised and looking like he had a very bad dose of mumps, and Mrs McEwen looking remarkably perky given the last few days' events.

Back at headquarters, Bodie and Doyle took Mrs McEwen to see their leader. Cowley rose from behind his desk and went forward to greet her. They embraced heartily while Bodie and Doyle exchanged surprised and embarrassed glances. When the pair dragged themselves away from each other Cowley, still smiling broadly (a fearful sight!), explained, "Gentlemen, let me introduce my sister, Mrs Annabel McEwan."


End file.
